


you're a menace to my sanity (i love it, i love you)

by curiosity



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:29:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2628389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curiosity/pseuds/curiosity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn’t exactly remember the precise moment where he had sat down by his desk, grabbed a perfectly clean white sheet of paper along with some random dark pen from his school bag, and began writing what could possibly be considered his own death sentence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're a menace to my sanity (i love it, i love you)

He doesn’t exactly remember the precise moment where he had sat down by his desk, grabbed a perfectly clean white sheet of paper along with some random black pen from his school bag, and began writing what could possibly be considered his own death sentence. Which wasn’t really a death sentence, for the record — although to Hajime, it was. People among the common folk would call it a…  _love_  letter. 

And who could he even be writing to? One, definitely not to the most horrific menace of his life. Two, definitely not to the one who was his so-called best friend. And three, definitely  _not_  to the smug bastard known as Oikawa Tooru. Perhaps he can save himself from any questions his conscious might ask and blame it on time, as it’s three in the goddamn morning and he’s having the worst insomnia of all time. Sleep deprivation surely isn’t a friend of his, he takes mental note of that.

 _Dear Oikawa,_  — no, too out of character.  _Dear Tooru,_  — absolutely no, out of question.  _Oikawa,_  — no.  _Asskawa,_  — perfect. This was going to be tougher than what he initially thought.

At first, he started with simple things, such as  _I think you’re really pretty, like, really_ and _it’s disgusting how charming you actually are, I wish I could deny it but unfortunately, I can’t_ and that was enough for him to fold his arms on the desk and lay his head between them. His heart feels tight, his throat dry, a headache is beginning to form itself, and maybe, just maybe, he could and should be doing something better, instead of scribbling a touchy-feely sheet for Tooru of all people in this godforsaken world. He takes a deep breath before deciding to continue. 

There are many thoughts Hajime desires to convey through his letter. Promises such as _I’ll never leave your side, I’m here_ , reassuraces such as  _you are good enough, you always were, you’re the best volleyball player in the country, in the whole world_. Knowing Tooru better than anyone else has its good perks, along with its bad ones. Seeing the other so unstable, so self-destroying… Hajime feels the need to put a stop to that. And with that, he decides to go all out.

_I hate seeing the way you overwork yourself to exhaustion. I worry about you so fucking much — I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You’re incredible, Oikawa. You’re amazing. You’re the best._

"This," Hajime voices out loud, "is so damn embarrassing." He’s trying so hard to control his instincts which wanted to crumble this piece of paper with his own hands.

_Your hair is the wildest mess I’ve ever seen – but it’s so fluffy, I want to run my hands through it all the time. Your eyes are the prettiest when they shine bright when you’re happy, and they’re so big and brown, I could stare at them forever. And your smile — it’s so warm, especially when it’s genuine. I want to protect that smile._

His cheeks heat up at every word he writes down and a bright shade of red makes its way to his face; yet, he lets out a light chuckle. “He’d laugh so fucking hard if he read this —Hell, I’d never hear the end of it.”

 _Honestly, even a five year old kid knows how to behave better than you. And your personality is the worst. And your fucking ego is the size of this planet. But that’s what makes you… you, I guess. Guess I wouldn’t change that, either. So, e_ _ven if you’re the biggest pain in the ass, I—_

No. No no no, that is one step ahead of the line he did not want to cross — but if he didn’t want to cross it, what’s the point of all he wrote until now? This is a mess, Hajime thinks, his poor dignity left the building, he isn’t even one hundred and fifty percent sure of what’s happening (he’s quietly blaming it all on time, once more, probably because it’s four in the morning already) – yet, he gets hold of his pen and God, what is he—

_I love you._

There. He went there. He actually fucking went there and  _goddamn it Hajime what have you done_. Even if he never finds the strength or the courage to deliver this scrap of paper to the person mentioned in its context, he will probably curse himself for the sheer fact that  _oh my god why do I love this asshole I’ve been a good person I don’t deserve this._ Maybe someday he’ll suck it up and be able to live with it. Maybe.

He decides to leave the letter at that – there isn’t much left to say (there is, he acknowledges so, but doesn’t want to admit because he’s as stubborn as a mule) and sleepiness finally found its way to him. He drifts off to sleep thinking about Tooru, about how he wishes he could hold him in his strong arms right now, and before his consciousness shut itself down, his last thought is—

_— I love you so much, Tooru._

* * *

 

Next day, it’s nine in the morning on a bright and sunny Sunday, and loud steps can be heard in the Iwaizumi household, towards a certain someone’s bedroom, even after Hajime’s mother told the source of the noise that “Hajime has had sleepless nights the past few days, so try not to wake him up, Tooru.”

"Don’t worry, Mama Iwaizumi, I’ll be extra careful!" Tooru told her, flashing her one of the smiles he uses to charm the ladies. Of course, Hajime’s mother simply breathes out an ‘oh my’ and lets him go, because Tooru is a very good kid, in her personal opinion.

"Wakey wakey, Iwa-chan!~" Not even bothering himself to knock at the door, Tooru enters the room. "Come on, we’re supposed to watch my favorite movie today, you can’t just—”

What sort of surprises Tooru upon looking around the quite messy place — “ _How does Iwa-chan even live in a room like this, ew.”_ — is the sight of Hajime resting soundly by his desk. His mother sure told him he wasn’t in his best days, but falling asleep there? Tooru lets out a content sigh. Same old Iwa-chan.

Something under Hajime’s strong arms catches his eye, though. Carefully, not to awaken the other, he tries to remove whatever Hajime’s clinging to, and successfully accomplishes his goal. 

"Oh my goodness, is this what I think it is? No way, I can’t believe Iwa-chan has someone he fancies," A mischievous smile graces Tooru’s expression; not in a million years he would’ve ever imagined the possibility finding a love letter of all things written by his best friend, this  _was_  Hajime, after all–

But when he reads his name — now that’s when it goes downhill.

He’s almost certain he’s about to faint when he finally realises his body temperature has risen. If anyone saw him right now, he’d most definitely be asked a fever wasn’t blooming within him. His eyes grow wider and wider as he hovers them through the letters in the paper, his heart bounces inside of him, almost literally leaping out of his chest, and his face carries a grin as enormous as the one of a child on Christmas Day. Who would’ve thought Hajime saw the grand Tooru in such light?

"Ah, to be young. Silly Iwa-chan," Pressing a light kiss on Hajime’s forehead, Tooru singsongs a happy, cheerful melody. Sure, if he had to forecast the nearest future in this exact second, he would say it was filled with lots of teasing, an extremely flustered Hajime chasing after Tooru, his ace punching him and Tooru laughing naturally.

That’s perfectly alright, though, Tooru thinks. Because—

_— I love you, too, Hajime._

**Author's Note:**

> soo I don't even know how to explain myself. iwaoi ruined my life. I love them. and this is lame  
> thank you for reading!


End file.
